


Into the Fray, Unflinching_Welcome to Daxam

by gldngrl7



Series: Hanging On, Letting Go [6]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Fucking, Hate Sex, Kara with someone who is not Mon-El or Ral, Multi, Multiple Partners, Older Man/Younger Woman, Priest Kink, Religious Fanaticism, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Vaginal Fisting, sex with sleeping partner, sleeping beauty kink, so much bad language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-07-09 19:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19893388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gldngrl7/pseuds/gldngrl7
Summary: So this is an AU of the original AU I already have going. LOL!  I had these ideas for outtakes that led to other ideas I wanted to explore.  This story branches off from the original ITF about mid-chapter 14.  THIS IS A DARKER STORY WITH DARKER KINKS, SO BEWARE! There is no Gata/Trel plotline here and Mon's motivations for staying in the dreamscape are more personal.In chapter 14 of 'Into the Fray Unflinching', Mon-El threatens to give Kara over to his entire garata team for their pleasure.  It was intended as an empty threat, but what if it wasn't?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Even though Kara is always in control in this story and has the escape hatch of using the 'mercy' safe word, this was written as a dubious consent story, whereby Kara confronts the idea that one's body and one's mind are not always in agreement, particularly where sex is concerned.
> 
> Please don't read if the issue of dubious consent can trigger you. I have placed a Rape/Non-Con warning on this story because, even though this story does not depict a violent rape in the dark alleyway sense of the word, much of this story can be triggering for survivors, depending on the circumstances of their own experience.
> 
> Not betaed. Also, my Word has become lackadaisical about catching and autocorrecting typos, so there's likely to be some.

**Chapter One:**

**DECLYN FORS**

Quickly growing limp, he pulls out of her as the high of his climax dissipates, steadfastly ignoring the increasing hollowness in his chest that expands with the distance he cultivates between them. He can hear her sniffling under the towel, see the light terry flutter as her breath comes quickly, her chest rising up and down.

Most Daxamites her age project a blasé quality when it comes to sex, having already moved on to their twentieth or thirtieth partner by now, but not his senya. She hungers for every encounter, hoping to see what’s next, as one does when the banquet is still fresh. Despite her apparent tardiness in blooming (expected for a Kryptonian), she is clearly a creature of enormous, perhaps limitless, sexual energies who thrives, if not depends, on release. By denying her orgasm, he’s depriving her of something intrinsic to the health and well-being of both her mind and her body, effectively starving her into defeat.

Perhaps he can kill two birds with one stone; helping her accept her new Daxamite lifestyle and giving her all the orgasms she could want at the same time. Of course, his plan has the added benefit of proving to her the depths of his depravity, and possibly pushing her closer to Ral provided the opportunity. That is, if she doesn’t cry mercy first. It just a good thing, his bond-brother isn’t here to witness what’s about to happen. He and his soft heart would never let Mon-El hear the end of it.

A slow smile of anticipation spreads across the prince’s face. “We’re going to play a game,” he whispers. “Do you want to play a game?”

“Y-yes, Master,” she sniffles.

He pulls the towel from her face, explaining, “It’s very important you keep your eyes open for this. No cheating.”

“No, Master.”

“Let’s play a game,” he announces to the room. The men cheer in response, as though they have been waiting just this pronouncement.

A frisson of fear lances down Kara’s spine. She saw the looks of cold eagerness in his eyes, pure Prince of Daxam, before he turned away. If ever there has been a time to Cry Mercy, it is upon her. Can she possibly bear what’s coming?

“It’s called…’Make the Kryptonian whore come’,” the prince shouts, the players cheers growing even more raucous. “Who wants to go first? Oh wait! Let’s make it interesting. If you can’t make her come, you have to stay celibate for two…no three…moon cycles. Feel free to bow out if you’re not up for the challenge. No judgements. Some of us handle celibacy better than others.” 

Rao! He’s giving her to them, just as he threatened. Breath catches in her throat, making it hard to get air as the tears fall down her temples. He’s already grown weary enough of her to give away his leftovers. Well, she can be sure of one thing at least; the thought of being taken by other men doesn’t tantalize her in the least. Through her tears, she revels in the knowledge that the takers will be forced to be celibate for the next three moon cycles.

Her heart drops into the pit of her stomach when the Declyn Fors shoves his way to the front of the group, pushing the others forcefully out of his way. He’s a young buck, but big like a bear. “Stand back, boys,” he commands. “This calls for a real man.” He approaches her, placing his hands on her knees. Part of her recoils on the inside. He tosses a look back at the prince, who has dropped into a nearby chair that affords him a decent view. “Your Highness?” he asks, his voice predatory and dripping with hunger.

“As the judge of this game, the only word of non-consent I will accept is ‘mercy’. If you hear it, you are to stop immediately, on pain of punishment. Am I understood?”

A chorus of yesses fills the room.

“Have fun…however you prefer. Pay no mind to her resistance, she’s a whore that needs some mastering. She requires punishment and she knows it. She’ll yield…eventually.” The prince lifts a glass of blue liquid in salute. ”You may begin. Kryptonian…be polite.”

Instinctively, she tries to hold her knees closed, her teeth chattering with the rush of adrenaline that comes with fear. ‘Not Declyn’, her mind screams in terror. His obsidian eyes coveted her from the moment he laid eyes on her, and he wasn’t shy about letting it show. Her firm thighs are no match for his sport-honed strength as he pries her knees apart and crowds between them. Kara squeezes her eyes shut waiting for him to shove his sizeable cock into her tender pussy.

But he doesn’t. He has no desire to rush this. It’s not every day a man gets to fuck a future sovereign’s senya, and rarer still one as luscious as the Kryptonian whore. “Open your eyes, Kryptonian,’ his voice goads. “Remember, there’s no cheating.”

Kara opens her eyes, turning her face to Mon-El, who watches calmly as he sips his rejuvenant, her eyes begging him to intervene. He pulls the glass away from his lips and mouths the word, ‘mercy’, and then winks at her.

‘How far will she go to save Mon-El?’ she wonders. One last glance at him, knowing that he’s slipping farther away, Kara knows there’s no limit. She will let each of the men awaiting their turn fuck her to their bodies’ content, if it buys her another day, another hour in this place, to reach him.

But she will not come. Defiantly, Kara crosses her arms at her chest, cupping her breasts to cover them.

Finally, decision made, her eyes flick away from the watching prince and settle upon her current partner. She swallows the disgust she tastes in the back of her throat.

“That’s a good girl,” Fors says, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. You need to know who’s fucking you, Kryptonian. My name is Declyn and I am your master until the next one takes my place, or until the prince ends the game. When you come for me, you will call out my name.” 

“Yes, Declyn,” she seethes, a tear slipping down her face. Her whole body quivers with fear.

Clasping her wrists, Declyn wrests them away from her breasts and pins them to the bed. Though she fights him, her body squirming beneath his authority, it’s clear that he requires very little effort to overpower her defiance. When she surrenders, her wrists already forming bruises, he cups the plump flesh of both of her breasts in his massive hands, squeezing and molding them to his liking, his obsidian eyes glinting with victory at the power he has over her.

“Mmmm,” she moans, fighting off the unwanted wave of pleasure.

Grinning broadly, lasciviously, at her body’s responsiveness, he plucks her nipples into hard buds, hungry to be suckled. Pinioning her wrists again, simply because he likes having her at his mercy, he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth, drawing on it deeply, until her body reacts. Kara groans, biting her lip in an attempt to keep the sound contained, hardly aware that her hips undulate beneath him in a silent plea.

But a silent plea isn’t good enough for him. Not nearly enough. Switching breasts, he gives the other the same treatment, gripping her wrists tighter as her head thrashes back and forth on the bed to fight off the feelings he coaxes unwillingly from her. The Kryptonian whore thinks she’s fighting him, but her body is telling an entirely different story. Is she even aware that while her arms try to escape his grip, she’s lifting her breast to him, silently imploring that he suck harder? He gives her what she can’t accept that she wants, sucking ruthlessly until she cries out.

Declyn releases her breast with a sloppy wet pop and stands, shaking the dark curtain of hair out of his smug face. Reaching down, he pinches her swollen nipples until she gasps, the pain streaking straight to her cunt like an electrical livewire. “I know whores like you. I know what you need,” he growls, biting his lower lip in satisfaction, miming a grinding fuck with his hips. “You like the fight, but you always give in.” 

To her dismay, her pussy clasps hungrily at empty air, waiting to be filled. Gritting her teeth, she cants her hips upward in invitation, hoping to get this over with, sooner rather than later.

“Oh no,” he chuckles, grinning his arrogant grin. His beefy hands roam over her body, his eyes devouring every inch of her like a feast served up to a starving man. “I’m no idiot. I know I’m only going to get one shot at this, so I plan to make this last. The game should be called, ‘How many _times_ can you make the Kryptonian whore come’.”

Kara blinks back the tears that well in her eyes, her breath stuttering in her chest like a child on the verge of sobs. What will he do to her when he can’t coax her to orgasm?

“Don’t hide your tears on my account, Pet. I like your Kryptonian tears. Gods…” he stares up at the ceiling blissfully, “when I’m fucking you, I’m going to be thinking about how much dishonor you’re bringing to your stale Kryptonian family – it’ll make me last longer,” he chuckles. “Between you and me, I don’t think our prince has indoctrinated you properly into our Daxamite lifestyle by keeping you all to himself. You leave that to me. Now take one of those soft Kryptonian hands and put it to good use on my cock. What do you say, Pet?”

Kara gulps, giving full reign to her hot salty tears. Hand shaking, Kara fumbles for his thick cock, tugging on the hot tool as it grows larger in response to her touch. “Yes, D-Declyn.”

“Mmmmm,” he groans, his hips rutting against her hand. “Yeah, just like that, Pet. Now I know it’s no monster like our prince’s, but I’ve never had any complaints before.”

Begrudgingly, she agrees; gazing down at the ready steel already leaking pre-cum from the slit. His cock is a tantalizing size with a thick, bulbous head and sharp upwards curve to it, like a long balloon that’s been filled with air. Curious, her thumb caresses the underside of the curve, passing over the sensitive, bulging vein there.

“Gods, yes,” he moans, practically salivating, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “He’s taught you well. You like that curve don’t you, Pet?” He pauses, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, Declyn,” she complies.

“A little gift my sire gave me in Advancement. It’s going to make you scream when you come.” 

He stands over her now, like a god blessing a mere mortal female with his presence. Intellectually, she finds almost everything about his personality repugnant, from the hardness in his obsidian eyes to the way he flips back his long dark hair so that he can watch her give him a hand job like he’s entitled to it. But her body, particularly everything below her navel, is suddenly not on board the same ship. He’s the kind of guy who takes a lap afterwards, like he invented fucking, and that disgusts her. Earlier, she had resisted when he shoved his way between his knees. Why then do her thighs now move an inch farther apart – like a siren’s call?

No! Rao, how is this possible? How can the disdain and the sickness she feels for this man be overridden by desire? She shoves it all down deep inside, locks it all down and focuses on the parts about him that she doesn’t like – which is just about everything but the curved rod jutting up from the dark nest of curls where his legs meet. She will not come! He will spend the next three moon cycles spending his cum in the shower, as will they all!

“Well look at that!” Declyn gasps in an overdramatic fashion, brushing away her hand and stepping back to show the room. “That’s a soaking wet clutch if ever I saw one. She must like something about me!” Declyn fists his own cock, a clear indication of what she finds desirable, and gives a few victorious pumps. “It looks like she can work up the honey, after all. I stand,” he pumps his cock pointedly, “corrected.”

To her mortification, the entire room dissolves into laughter, even Mon-El. To hide her shame, she clamps her knees back together, squeezing her thighs as tightly as she can. Her efforts are to no avail though, because once again he pries them open, wider and with more force this time. Grabbing her hips, he yanks her body closer to the edge of the bed. “Please!” she weeps.

“Begging,” he laughs. “I love it.” His large hands and stronger fingers spread her white thighs farther apart until, like it or not, her glistening pussy in on display for all to see. “Let’s hear more of it.” Grasping his cock, he positions the thick head at her waiting entrance. “Please, Declyn,” he demonstrates, his voice breathy and feminine, leaning down towards her face. “Please give me that giant cock.” Taunting her, he slips her just the tip, circling it around the opening until her pussy clamps with hunger. Declyn pulls back.

“No, please,” she whimpers. 

Declyn turns his head in the prince’s direction, tilting his head.

Mon-El considers the scene and determines his ruling. “Only a cry of ‘mercy’ indicates a lack of consent. You may continue, Fors.”

To Kara’s horror, her cry of ‘no’ wasn’t one of non-consent, but rather one of disappointment. He gave her the tip of his cock, offered to fill her emptiness and then reneged. Her entire body shivers with need, with hunger, and she can’t understand how it can betray her this way.

“She wants me, boys! Look how she wants me!” Declyn crows, to the accompaniment of hooting team members.

Kara grits her teeth with rage, her eyes narrowing as though imagining she’s burning holes in Declyn Fors with her laser vision. “Arrrrrggghh!” she screams, choking on her own fury.

“Yeah,” he whispers, only loud enough for her to hear. “Try all you like but there’s no denying it now, Kryptonian. What do you think your father would say if he could see you now? Quaking with need for someone you don’t even like. Gods…you must really hate yourself right now.” Cupping her hairless mound, he slips two wide fingers between her wet lips and slides them into her pussy to the last knuckle, slowly pumping them in and out. “Just wait,” he taunts.

“Nnnnnnnghh,” she moans, her hands gripping the comforter beneath her. Her back arches against the onslaught of sensation as she cries, tears spilling down her cheeks. It isn’t supposed to feel good. Her greedy, selfish cunt isn’t supposed to want more.

As if reading her mind, or her traitor of a body, he speeds up his wrist, pumping in and out of her faster and faster until her pussy makes that wet squelching sound that has the room cheering.

“Fuck her, Dec!” One of them encourages.

“Not yet,” he yells back. “Not until she comes. Not until she begs for it.” He grins a bright grin of triumph, his eyes hard chips of mercilessness. “You’re going to beg for it, aren’t you, Pet?” His hand pumps in and out of her, the other hand pinching and twisting one nipple, and Kara cries because it feels so good, but not good enough. She cries because she can feel the pull inside of the pit of her belly, the build that tells her that breaking the promise she made to herself is inevitable, no matter how much she despises the man pleasuring her. Most of all she cries because she knows he’s right. She’s going to beg for it.

“Yes, Declyn,” she sobs.

“Good girl. Beg me to make you come, Kryptonian.” His hand stops, his fingers no longer pumping, threatening to take them away.

“Please,” she cries, “please make me come.”

Declyn grins, withdrawing his hand and pinching her swollen clit between his thumb and forefinger. “Remember what to say when I let you come,” he reminds her. Tugging and twisting at her clit with one hand, while he holds her thighs open with the other, the tension builds and builds until finally she splits apart like a firework. 

“Declyn!” she groans between pants. Out of breath, her entire body stiffens as if she’s stepped on an electrified wire. Declyn shoves his fingers back into her rippling pussy, drawing out her climax for as long as he can. All she can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat and the distant cheers of the spectators in the room, all waiting their turn to have a go at her.

“Say it again!” he orders, pumping his wrist.

“Declyn,” Kara complies. Her body jerks as his thumb strikes her clit again. When he pulls his hand back, her body goes limp, as though he’s flipped a switch he controlled all along. She’s barely able to breathe when he shoves his fingers, soaked in her juices, into her mouth. Kara doesn’t need instruction to know what she’s to do with them. They are thick like sausages, made for single-handedly grasping the kind of ball used in garat. They’re made for hand-fucking wet pussies, and he knows it.

“You like that, don’t you?” Every question is a demand for validation, or an inch toward surrender.

“Mmmmm…yes, Declyn,” she slurs drunkly, when he pulls his fingers out of her mouth.

“But it wasn’t enough, was it, Pet? My thick fingers inside you. You want something a little thicker don’t you?” Before waiting for a response, he teases her by grasping his cock and slapping it repeatedly against her clit. 

Kara presses her lips tightly together and turns her head away, her body jerking every time the head of his dick makes contact. She’s so tender, she’s practically on the verge of climaxing again, but none of that matters, because all she wants is that cock buried to hilt inside of her. Pummeling her to such heights she forgets who’s making her scream. Damn her traitorous body! 

He leans forward running the length of his curved cock down her wet slit, lubricating it, but also causing her to gasp. “Oh that feels good, doesn’t it?” he teases, knowing perfectly well it’s driving her crazy. Hovering over her, he places his hand on the mattress beside her and slowly humps her mons, his balls pressing against her pussy. “Almost makes you want to come again, doesn’t it?” When there’s no response from her he prompts again. “Doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes, Declyn.” She gasps as he presses his hips hard against hers.

“How close are you?” He rocks his hips gently into hers, never letting up the rhythm. 

Against her will, her hips join the dance, tilting up to meet each of his tiny thrusts. “Almost there,” she breathes, sweat now beading on every inch of her skin.

“You know what to do.”

Kara’s hands reach for his hips, fingernails digging in until he flinches through that smug smirk of his. “Please make me come, Declyn.”

“I plan to win this game,” he leers. “But still…I have to give the others a goal to shoot for.” His rocking hips stop merely teasing and smack against hers in earnest. He grunts, pleased, as Kara’s gasps become high-pitched whines.

She spins apart again, breathlessly crying his name, with some added, and unwitting praises. “Yes! Yes! Declyn!”

“Beg me for my cock now, Kryptonian. Make me believe it and I’ll make it unforgettable.” His own cock is harder than it’s ever been. There’s nothing he loves more than a partner that has to be convinced – the challenge is intoxicating. Taking the unwilling is forbidden on Daxam, on pain of death, however, he loves to ride that line, skirting as close to danger as he can get. But he’s yet to end a fucking session without his partner, man or woman, clasping at him like they never want to let go. If the crescent shaped marks on his hips are anything to judge by, it looks like he’s almost there with this Kryptonian. It’s a shame he’ll have to hand her over when he’s done with her. He knows the prince has plans for her that don’t include selling her to his garata wingback. No matter how much he’d be willing to pay for this sweet little whore with crystal blue eyes. He likes the way they spark with the twin blessing for rage and desire, his favorite emotions with which to fuel sex.

He teases her again with his pulsing rod, tugging his cock to torture it just a little. She moans beneath him, battling a war inside. Does she surrender to him to get what she needs, or does she suffer for her stubbornness? Giving her cunt just another sample of the head of his cock, he smirks as she reaches for him, clasping at his waist, without speaking. “To be honest…I hope you struggle with your decision for a little while longer, at least.” Bending down, he places the flat of his tongue on the long tendon jutting from her neck and traces it all the way up to her jaw. Then he works his way over to her ear, biting and tugging on the lobe before his hot breath whispers, “Don’t you know? The longer the fight, the sweeter the surrender.”

It’s absolute torture, wanting him, but hating him at the same time. He’s right and she knows it. The longer she waits, the sweeter it will be for him, and the more enjoyment the other men in the room with take from it. She aches to be taken; softly, roughly, she doesn’t care as long as it ends with the hot flood inside her womb. Her heart loves Mon-El but, she’s discovered her pussy, it turns out, just isn’t that particular. Something inside of her breaks.

“Please,” she says, her voice swallowing back tears. “Please give me your thick cock, Declyn.”

Declyn tilts his head, considering her request. He’s unsatisfied, not by the words, but by the lack of surrender he hears in them. He dips his cock into her heat just a bit more, and then pulls back. He strains at the bit to slam inside, but knows he’ll feel the triumph to his core if she bids him enter with her cheeks wet with tears. “I don’t believe you, Kryptonian.”

His sly grin eats her alive, consuming the very last bit of pride she ever might have had. With one hand, Kara covers her eyes, letting the sobs come unabated, her chest wracking with them.

Declyn’s hand clamps down on her wrist, pinning it to the bed again. Watching her tears of surrender is the sweetest victory he’s had since they won their last championship, four revs ago. “Declyn, please…” he sing-songs, prompting the sobbing Kryptonian.

“D-Declyn, p-please g-give me your big cock,” she sobs.

“I didn’t quite get that,” he teases, circling his pelvis as though ramping up.

Kara attempts to gather a breath, biting down on her lips to contain her sobs. When the worst of it subsides, she tries again. With a whimper, she weeps, “Declyn, will you please give me your big cock?”

“See,” he tilts his head, “was that so hard?” 

He grabs her waist and targets his throbbing member at her entrance, dipping the head into her wet folds, his eyes sparkling with rapacious anticipation. Taking this one will be special, he thinks, providing bragging rights for cycles. Soon, everyone he meets is going to know that’s he’s the one who broke the Kryptonian senya. He plunders her with the same vainglorious swagger of taking a victory lap, and he takes pains to let her know it, groaning dramatically as he pushes his way in. No need to be gentle or test the waters, he plunges in all the way to the hilt, his balls slapping against the crack of her ass with a satisfying smack.

“Oh gods,” Declyn groans as her tight heat welcomes him and encloses around his aching dick. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, unable to remember the last time he felt bliss like this. “No wonder.” He retreats from the paradise of her clasping wet heat and slips back in again, savoring the return with a lip-biting groan, “Oh yeah.” He could come right now, but there’s no way he’d give his sweet conquest the satisfaction of ending this a second before he’s gotten every little thing he can out of her. “This clutch is too good not to share.” 

Kara sobs again, the tears starting afresh. But not because a vile and praetorian stranger’s cock has shoved its way into her, but because he’s mastered her and everyone in the room knows it. His arrogant subjugation feels so good and she hates him for it. It isn’t supposed to feel good when someone takes what you don’t want to give. Horrified by her own body’s greedy response, she bucks against him, kicking out with her feet and, planting her hands on the mattress, tries to escape the rod impaling her.

Implacable hands clamp down on her waist like a vise, holding her tight against his balls as she writhes on his invading steel. Declyn laughs, amused and elated, by her futile attempt to escape. Reminding her that she’s a slave, a life she’s chosen according to the prince, he withdraws slowly before ramming back in, impaling her once more, and leading a growl of possessiveness to rise from deep within him. Then he repeats the action twice more for good measure, and because it’s thrills him to do so.

Kara gasps for breath at the rough assault, reaching for anything to hold onto and landing on the blanket beneath her. Her chest heaves in an effort to get air as her sobbing tears make breathing a challenge. Around all of the sensory input under which it’s buried, her brain struggles to reconcile what’s happening to her. You aren’t supposed to want to be mindlessly fucked by someone you hate. That isn’t how it’s supposed to work.

And yet, it is.

Convinced that she needs a bit more reminding of her place here, Declyn releases her waist and leans down to grab her wrists, using his bulky athletic frame to trap her lower body in place. Wrapping his fingers around her wrists just below her slave cuffs, he pins her to the bed completely before he begins fucking her in earnest.

He fills her up and that curved cock hits all the right places as he pumps in and out, her arms pinned in place, her breasts bouncing freely with each of his thrusts as her sobs gradually turn into something else. Pressing her lips together, Kara tries in vain to contain her moans, but she’s never been good at staying silent in the onslaught of pleasure. And, as much as she wishes she could deny it, he is giving her pleasure. A lot of it. Her body is well-trained to relish the sort of aggressive possession he vigorously employs – though his methods be cruel and callous.

Seeking a change of angle, Declyn stands up, dragging her wrists down by her side, holding them there and using them as leverage so that he can dig in deeper. Despite his fluid, almost graceful rhythm, his pelvis smacks loudly, but pleasurably, against hers and he does nothing to restrain his own animal-like grunts as he ruts into her. Staring at the canopy overhead, Kara wishes she could punch the haughty bastard in the face, suspecting his loudness is less about the effort he employs in fucking her and more about proving to everyone with ears, including her, that he’s won. She resolves to not add her own soundtrack to his own. 

Unhappy with the stubbornness she continues to display, and her self-enforced silence, Declyn slaps her full across the face and then grabs her chin. Brutally, he digs his thumb into her cheek until her mouth opens, her groans of secret pleasure spilling forth. “You’ve surrendered, Kryptonian. You officially have no shame. Why pretend?”

It’s the last bastion she has left. He made her come and he made her beg for it. Now he’s fucking her into oblivion, and he wants her to admit how much she enjoys it. There is nothing left of the Kryptonian in her – not in this place.

He draws back his hips, slapping her face again as he slams back into her hungry core. “Don’t pretend,” he commands, slapping her once more before sliding his hand down to one of her breasts, roughly cupping and squeezing the bouncing flesh while he pounds into her.

The pain and the pounding all turn to pleasure too much to bear. “Yes!” she cries out when his cock hits the secret jewel in her channel just as he graces her with another slap across the face. “Just like that, Declyn,” she cries, a last tear slipping down her burning, reddened cheek. “Don’t stop.” she begs breathlessly, swiping her tongue across her dry lips. “Please don’t stop.”

He grins broadly, tossing his curtain of hair when the Kryptonian reaches around and grabs the stone hard globes of his ass, panting out her mounting pleasure.

The room goes up in cheers.

He pounds and pounds, his pelvis smacking mercilessly into hers as though he’s trying to drill right through her. His pubic bone grinds into her clit with each twist of his hips. Her fingers grasp tightly at his ass, hoping to get just a little more friction out of him. Mouth open, panting, she stares down between their bodies, watching as his dick fucks her, his powerful abdominals crunching with each penetration. 

“Yeah…yeah…yeah…yeah,” she pants. The pressure builds to a breaking point, Kara’s whimpering growing higher and higher in pitch with each stoke of his steel. “I’m…going to come…Declyn,” she warns him, forgetting in all the mindless pounding that climaxing is kind of the point.

“Please do,” he urges, sweat dripping from his forehead and landing on her face. “I love to hear the sound of my own name.”

Kara wishes she could hold it back, but she can’t control it anymore. Something about his smug confidence enrages her and that sparks her climax – a hate orgasm. “Declyn!” she screams when it hits, her pussy clamping around his pistoning dick. It goes on and on as he intentionally draws it out, never changing his pace as he fucks her through the convulsions. “Yes…yes…yes!” she shouts with each of his thrusts, her pussy unhappy each time he pulls out.

“I told you my cock would make you scream when you came. What was that now? Three?”’

“Come inside me,” Kara begs, ready for this to be over. Ready for his smug face to be replaced by the next stranger whose name she doesn’t know. “Come inside me, Declyn.”

“I don’t think so,” he denies, pulling all the way out and leaving her empty and clasping desperately for his return. His dick, soaked with her cum, flops onto her belly. “Not when I’m having so much fun. I’m not quite ready to give you up. You’re just too good.” Leaning down he bites hard on her earlobe while roughly squeezing her breast hard enough to form bruises. “They can have _my_ leftovers,” he whispers. “I think I’d like to take you from behind. But first, you’re going to worship this cock you made so wet, with your mouth. Turn over on your stomach and face our audience. I know you like an audience, don’t you?”

“Yes, Declyn.” Kara rolls over onto her stomach and turns around, careful not to stretch the tie of the anal hook still buried in her rectum.

Standing in front of her, he bounces his cock in front of her face before slapping her cheek with it. “Now open your mouth and take it, Pet. No teeth, or you’ll regret it,” he warns.

Kara sucks him in until she gags, not that he gives her much choice. She hollows out her cheeks and draws her mouth up and down along the length of the rod, hoping she can get him off right here, so he can be done with her. But he doesn’t comply. He doesn’t seem interested in fucking her mouth as Lord Ral had done in the chancel, but rather expects her to treat his cock like it’s a divine instrument. She licks him clean of her tangy juices, bobbing her head along the length to the best of her limited range of movement.

Dropping his head back, his hands holding her hair back, he relishes the feel of her hot mouth on his hard steel for few minutes. It isn’t long until he’s bored and needs to vent his energies. Cocksucking, while pleasurable to receive, doesn’t usually win over the reluctant, since it’s a more one-sided pleasure. He’s one for more visceral, primal activities – and the Kryptonian clearly prefers being plowed.

Releasing her, Declyn walks around to the side of the bed and climbs up. Manhandling her into position on her hands and knees, he spreads her legs wide until he can kneel between them, enjoying how she surrenders to everything he wants her to do. He teases her clit with the head of his cock before sliding in, but instead of thrusting he reaches for her dangling breasts, cupping and squeezing them, pinching the nipples and drawing them like she’s a milking beast as their ancestors once were.

”Mmmmmm,” Kara moans, her hated pussy clenching around his frustratingly stationary penis. The tugs and twists of her nipples send streaks of arousal right to core, causing her to rock her pelvis back, searching for fulfillment.

“Someone wants more fucking.” 

“Yes, Declyn,” she whimpers, rocking backwards. “Please!”

“Do you ever get enough?” He scans the room at all of the men watching and waiting patiently. “Is it possible to die from too much pleasure? I guess we’ll find out. Please Declyn…what?”

“Please fuck me, Declyn,” Kara whines, rocking harder against him, unable to find relief. 

Rewarding her humble plea, Declyn pulls out and drives back in so hard he can see her head snap up and her jaw drop.

“Yeah,” she keens. “Fill me up, Declyn. Fill me up with your special cock.”

“Now you’re getting into the spirit, Pet,” he praises, rocking out of her heat and then back in. Changing things up a bit, he holds himself still again, his meaty hands working through the straps of her convenient harness and using them to jerk her cunt onto his cock for stroke after stroke. She groans, tossing her head back. “You like that, Pet?”

Rao, it’s so good…so amazing, his bruising hands on her, forcing her to fuck him. “Don’t stop…don’t stop…don’t stop,” she pleads each time her pussy is pulled back on his thick dick. He gets so deep, so deliciously deep she can feel him in her belly and she’s afraid she’ll never be able to stop letting him fuck her.

Somewhere along the line though he stops tugging her backwards and, to his absolute glee, she just takes over, rocking back onto his waiting dick, using her arms to perpetuate the motion. Declyn removes his hands from her hips and holds them up for the audience to witness, waiting to see if the Kryptonian keeps fucking him. She doesn’t miss a single beat, and even speeds up her rhythm. He tucks his hands behind his head and grins, while the audience bursts into applause. A quick glance at the prince finds that he’s moved, spread himself across the pillows to toke the ojym weed, only partially paying attention to the entertainment. He doesn’t seem to particularly care what they do to his senya as long as they don’t break the one rule they were given.

“Don’t stop...don’t stop…don’t stop,” her chant continues, lost in the pleasure. She hears the applause and her skin flushes in response. She’s growing accustomed to having an audience and appreciates the applause, though she isn’t sure what it’s for. “Don’t stop, Declyn,” she begs. “I’m so close.”

“Keep right on going then, Pet. You seem to be getting there all by yourself.

Kara realizes then what’s been happening. That her traitorous body had taken over, while he had stopped to enjoy the show. “No,” she whimpers, dropping her head to hide behind her hair. Tears well again as she leans forward, drawing his cock from her depths, and then rocks back, taking him in again, her body unable to stop. How can she be so wanton? How can this feel so good? “No, no, no,” she laments, each time rocking back harder and harder.

“Yes…yes....yes,” he contradicts, refusing to meet her thrusts with his own, purely to watch her suffer. “Gods, you want it so bad. Such a hungry, tight clutch. Give it to me, Pet. Give me that tight clutch.”

“Please...please…please,” she cries, wanting it to end but knowing she can’t do it herself. Not this way. “Please make me come, Declyn.”

“Tell me you love it,” he taunts. “Tell me you love it and I’ll help you come. Make me believe it.”

“I love it,” she screams, pushing back until her ass slaps against his pelvis. “I love your cock deep inside me. I hate you! I hate you so much,” Kara cries.

“I know” he crows, slapping her ass. He drops down over her, one hand beside hers, his broad, muscular body engulfing her much smaller one. He’s a beast and he knows it. It’s what makes him good on the field and good in the chancel. He grips her hair tightly, dragging it aside so that he can place his mouth against her ear. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?” he growls, tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue, for good measure. “Because you _love_ my cock hitting you so deep, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she growls between her teeth. “I love it when it goes deep.”

Declyn crunches his abdominals, driving in rough until his balls smack against her. “Like this?”

“Ahhh,” she moans, which earns her another reward. “Fuck yes!”

He retreats and drives in again, grunting at the effort. “Or like this?”

“Yes, please!” Kara quivers beneath him, every nerve aware of his invading force, drawn tight like a bow string ready to release. 

Sliding one hand under her, Declyn unerringly finds her throbbing clit, teasing it gently with the barest of touches. “And you know what I love?” he mocks her. “When your cunt clutches me so tight while you scream my name. And you give me that so good. What would your father say if he could see you now? Hmmm? Begging for a Daxamite cock without a prude and proper introduction. Gods it gets me so hard just thinking about it. Making you all dirty.”

When he flicks her clit hard it’s like pressing the plunger on a detonator. The bow string snaps back and her nerves fire all at once. Just has her pussy clamps down on his cock, he stops teasing and fucks her, mounting her body completely with his, and biting down on her shoulder, like a male garat breeding a female.

“Declyn!” Kara screams, throwing her head back as her pussy makes every effort to hold him hostage by clasping at him as he retreats.

His forcefulness overwhelms her now. Beneath him, she’s unable to move and barely able hold herself aloft as he ruts on top of her like a bear fucking his much smaller mate. One of his arms wraps around her, grasping her swinging breast and squeezing it roughly until she pays him with a groan.

No longer teasing her now, he focuses on the build to his own climax, having gotten what he wanted from her. But her clutch is sweet, clasping at his tool, that he wants it to last a little bit longer, maybe coax another scream out of her if he can. It will be a record for him, and she’ll hate him all the more for it. Every time she sees him after this, in the halls, in the garden, any time he may perchance to see her (and he’ll contrive it as often as possible) her cunt will clench with remembrance, feeling his cock rutting deep inside of her.

Now for his final triumph, he thinks, with one of the smug smiles that get all of the girls hot and bothered. Including the one dripping all over his cock right now.

It takes a few seconds to recognize the sound. He’s horribly off key, and to be fair, it’s been years since she’s heard it, so she doesn’t recognize it right away. Declyn’s pounding into her, hitting all of the spots that have her rolling her eyes into the back of her head, her mouth hanging stupidly open, all while humming the Kryptonian national anthem right against her ear. Bastard. 

Fucking, rutting beast of a bastard. 

Kara tries to buck him off of her, but even if she hadn’t just been fucked into oblivion, she wouldn’t have the strength. He laughs in her ear and then finishes the song, rutting a little bit harder into her during the measures where the drumbeats should be. “Time for the best part,” he says, when the song finally ends.

“Fuck you,” she whimpers.

“Mmmm,” he moans, licking his lips. “Yes…and you’ve performed that task very well, Pet. I have no complaints. If he decides to give you up, I plan to claim first rights.”

“No,” she wails, but she can’t stop her body from rocking against his, from taking him deep, until she’s breathless. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll learn to love it. But I wouldn’t want that to happen too quickly.” With a ringing laugh he lifts his body away from hers, his hands now caressing the rippling planes of her gorgeous back as he renews the storming of her defenses with new vigor.

“Yesyesyesyesyes,” she chants, the words moving over her lips like a prayer.

Declyn clasps one hand on her hip and the other he reaches for her hair, taking it at the scalp and yanking her head back as he pummels her scorching core into submission. After a few solid minutes of his grunts of her mewling and involuntary encouragements, he reminds her, “I can…do this…all night.” He punctuates each growled phrase with a fierce thrust of his pelvis, digging as deep into her as he can.

She slides her knees further apart, opening wider to him, and forcing his thrusts to take a more upward trajectory. Over and over and over, his curved steel hits the spot that turns her into a boneless, mindless fuck-toy. “So close,” she prays to no one in particular, least of all her tormenter. “Just a little faster.”

Declyn hears her prayer and complies, speeding the upward thrusts of his hips until the Kryptonian begins to make a new sound.

“Ooh…ooh...ooh…ooh…yeah…Declyn!”

He withdraws just in time for her to squirt all over his belly and his tool. Definitely a record for him. Not too shabby for a guy whose father didn’t bother to give him a low refractory period. Declyn shoves his cock back into her clenching, squirting heat, taking personal pleasure from the groan that bursts from the depths of her gut when he slides back in, going balls deep.

“Oh fuuuuck,” she moans, never wanting to be empty again. “Fill me up,” she begs, fuck-drunk with the pleasure radiating from where their bodies clash together, and from deep within her center. “Put your come in me. Please, Declyn?”

“It would be my pleasure, Pet.” Sliding his hands ups her shapely back, he works his fingers under the harness straps at shoulders, grasping her for leverage, and then begins riding her at a punishing pace. The slapping of his pelvis against her ass, her now uninhibited groaning and his beastlike grunts, and her tight heat gripping at his thrusting cock like a spasming fist, all combine to bring him to the edge of paradise. Despite the torture of crushing against her plush ass as he fucks her, his balls draw up tighter and tighter with each stroke.

“Come in me, Declyn. I want to feel your hot spunk in me.”

Her beautifully filthy words do the trick, and in the next breath he’s shooting his load into her, howling like an animal, his head thrown back, and his hips still pumping wildly.

“Ungh….ungh…ungh…” he grunts with each vicious thrust. “Take…it…all!”

He leaves a spurt of cum inside of her every time, flooding her womb with the reminder of his victory over her. She swore she wouldn’t come, and he made her beg for it five times. He made her love the feel of his cock inside of her. He made her relish the way his body overpowered hers so easily. He made her realize she loved to fight, and even more than that, she could find pleasure in losing.

“Don’t you have something you wish to say to me, Pet?” he asks when the last of his cum is spent, his hips still rocking into her as his cock grows flaccid inside of her channel.

Kara licks her dry lips, and clears her raw throat. “Thank you, Declyn. Thank you for coming inside of me.”

Finished with her, he leans down one more time and places his mouth against her ear. “Welcome to Daxam,” he says. Lifting up, he withdraws his spent cock from her cunt, leaving behind a wet, dripping mess, and quits the bed on legs that barely quiver from the exertion.

Her eyes track him across the room, as the others gather around him, shaking his hand or offering him some other form of male validation. One tosses him a towel, which he uses to wipe his sweat and her juices before he steps down into the pool without a backwards glance in her direction.

Kara’s arms give out and she collapses on the bed, her eyes closing in exhaustion. She must heavily doze for a few minutes, because when next she opens them, she’s been rearranged and moved to the center of the bed. Her legs are resting on a bald man’s shoulders, and his cock is sliding into her welcoming pussy.

“Mmmmmm,” she moans, her eyes batting lazily as he fills her yearning emptiness. “What’s your name?”

“Revnik,” he groans as she clenches around his thick member.

It seems there’s a lot of phallus tweaking going on in Advancement, since it feels like she’s on a planet of porn stars.

“Is that what you want me to scream when I come?”

“Rev,” he answers, drawing out and sliding back in, testing her waters. “They call me Rev.”

“Make me come, Rev.”

*****


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

**VEN REVNIK**

“I’ve heard of breaking partners before, but that was well done,” Ven Revnik says, grinning at the younger man as he slaps his densely muscular shoulder. He hands the kid a towel to clean off the mess. Declyn smells of the arousal he masterfully coaxed from the prince’s senya. 

“She’s been here for more than three days, it’s about time she had a Daxam Welcome. I’m sure she’ll gladly take the rest of you now,” Declyn gloats, adding a wink for good measure as he towels off his sweat and the wet juices of the Kryptonian whore. His other team members laugh at his leering prediction, each slapping him on the back in turn. “I think I might have used her all up.”

“Impossible…if she is what Laudia believes….” Rev replies, thoughtfully.

“Now that I’ve had the Kryptonian whore, I’m almost inclined to believe Laudia’s epiphany. Almost,” Declyn qualifies. “If I were the type to believe in such things. But…I believe in the power of garata, and I believe in the power of this,” he grasps his cock, which stirs slightly beneath his touch. “And I don’t really care whose vessel she is as long as I get my piece.” He adds. “So, Proctor…have you decided? Trapped between a Kryptonian whore and a dozen Milk Maids…you are a man to be envied.”

“What choice do I have?” Rev laughs. “Laudia would flay me to the bone if I missed the opportunity to make a sacrifice on her behalf. Do you think…she’ll accept Laudia’s sacrifice?”

“She can’t reject it if you’re the one providing it,” Declyn points out. “Our prince has seen to that.” Declyn claps his older friend on the back, nods, and offers him a tip as he wades waist deep into the heated pool. “You should make your sacrifice before she has nothing left to give, old man. She’s only Kryptonian, after all, Proctor.”

“Right,” Rev agrees. “I think I’ll take your advice. If no one else minds,” he announces to the group, grabbing his semi-erect cock and giving it a few pumps as he heads in the direction of the bed, “Lure calls me to worship.”

Leaving the others to continue their party, Rev approaches the mammoth bed and reverently steps up to the platform. Stroking his cock thoughtfully, he considers the prone figure sprawled in front of him, pondering the best ways to use her as the goddess Lure would wish. Three days after her performance in the chancel and she is already a legend on Daxam for her sexual appetites, if not her stamina. She must still be quite exhausted. A specimen in her physical prime, she is younger than his own son and so will no doubt recover with all speed. His cock hardens at the prospect of easing its needs upon one so young – it’s been an age since he’s mounted such nubile pleasure-flesh. His eyes roam freely over her lithe body, perfect in every way, cataloguing her flawlessness so that he can later relate it to Laudia in pristine detail. She will pepper him with so many questions, he hopes that the live feed broadcast on the Daxcess from the cameras all around the room, and the five angles on the prince’s bed, will provide comprehensive answers. 

The Kryptonian rests from her exertions, used and pleasured to the point of collapse, but that won’t stop him from taking his turn on her. According to the parables, the goddess Lure often liked to be pleasured and even taken, while in her repose. It is said she blessed those lovers who could pleasure her without waking her with longer lives, as she lamented the hours of pleasure lost during sleep. The Kryptonian will wake up eventually, and when she does…she’ll reach for him like all the others. 

Rev picks her up, cradling her limp body like a child’s, and carries her around to the other side of the bed, where he places her in the center. She murmurs incoherently, unaware that her position has even been altered. When he takes a few minutes to clean her of the messy offerings on her thighs and dripping from her clutch, she slumbers through it, though she arches her back as he wipes away the copious amounts of Declyn’s cum.

Tossing away the towel, he climbs onto the bed and studies her sleeping form. He’s a man of visual appetites as much as physical and hers is a body he can study all day. Already, he resents the presence of her submission harness and the way it will separate his hands from the unbroken canvas of her perfect skin. He decides to relieve her of it, whether it wakes her or not. The prince instructed them to leave the anal hook in place, but said nothing of the harness.

He finds the strategic buckles holding the device together and carefully releases the clasps until the patta’an strips practically fall away from her body. With minimal disturbance of her person, Rev divests her completely of the device, tossing it from the bed with a clanging thump. Satisfied that he’ll now be able to enjoy the uninterrupted flesh of the whore who is clearly crafted in Lure’s image, he continues his visual adoration.

Taking in the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath; and the way her flat belly tapers down to her bare cunt in gorgeously elegant lines, Rev slowly pumps his rod, his thumb rubbing the slit where his prized offering already begins to gather. Her long, shapely legs beg to be spread wide as he spills it into her. 

Bringing the Kryptonian to her peaks during her repose would call him blessed among Laudia’s congregation and bring her even greater renown. Rev wonders how men, in the time of the goddess, accomplished the deed, though there are stories of many who tried…and failed. He wants to be one of Lure’s blessed and he might do well, since the Kryptonian seems dead to the world for the time being.

The Proctor licks his lips in anticipation as he wonders just where to begin. He can’t recall the last time he’s been with a whore of this caliber. Maybe…forty revs ago…when he was fresh out of chancel training he per chanced an opportunity to take his pleasure on one with rare appetites. But he’d never heard of a whore whose legend had grown as quickly, nor spread as wide as that of the Crown Prince’s senya. Since her performance in the chancel, the senya has already amassed a huge following on the Daxcess, across all echelons of Daxam’s society. The Milk Maids believe she is the pre-born vessel of the goddess Lure, created to accept sacrifices and offerings made to the goddess in any way acolytes sincerely provide them, and seeing her in the flesh, Rev is inclined to agree. Rev wonders where the prince found this marvelous piece of pleasure-flesh, how she came to be among them, and if there are secretly more like her. Did he rescue her from the restrictive society of Krypton?

He decides to begin with her breasts – he’s always been a breast man. Carefully positioning himself alongside her lean and nubile frame, every inch of her body touching his, he cups one breast with long fingers, his calloused thumb flicking her nipple. When she doesn’t stir, he flicks the bud again, and then gives it a daring twist. She shifts position slightly, but does not awaken.

Rev grins. This might be easier than he thought.

He laves the nipple with the tip of his tongue, swirling around the bud a few times before drawing it tenderly into his mouth. He suckles the tit, the pull growing increasingly more powerful by the minute, as he hopes she won’t open her eyes.

“Uuunnggh,” she moans, lifting her breast into his mouth for more. Releasing her, he turns to observe her for a moment, reassuring himself that she’s still sleeping. “Shhhhh…” Rev urges into her ear. The Kryptonian settles back into her sleeping pattern, soothed by the sound of his deep hypnotic voice.

Like a newborn creature, Rev suckles her again until the Kryptonian moans, blindly reaching for something to grasp. He loves the sound of a woman moaning while her tit is in his mouth, fingernails scraping along his bald pate. But he has to be careful with this one. Continuing his ministrations, he tongues her nipple, swirling it round and round as her body’s growing awareness has yet to reach her conscious mind. 

The Kryptonian arches her back again, offering him her other breast, which he would be a fool to refuse. With long-practiced control, Rev trails his hand up her torso, his fingertips ghosting over the surface of her ribcage before reaching its goal. Sucking the nipple back in his mouth, his hand cups the offered breast, working it as gently as he did the other.

“Aaaannngggghhh,” the Kryptonian huffs in her sleep, her legs spreading ever so slightly in unwitting invitation. Just like the goddess Lure, the Kryptonian seeks pleasure in repose.

Rev kisses her nipple, hot tongue drawing the entire areola into his mouth, yet still she doesn’t wake, only whines a sound that he considers encouragement. Rev nurses at her tit, wet mouth drawing methodically on her nipple, while the hand on her other breast squeezes and molds her plump flesh in time to his suckling, all while he keeps an eye on her face.

Her hips jerk and roll, but to his incalculable pleasure, she continues to slumber through it all. “Mmmmmm,” she moans.

Attached to her nipple, he skips a hand down to her exposed soft belly, his finger circling around her navel twice before continuing downward. Her flat stomach quivers at his light touch. Releasing her breast, he grins. “Oh…you like that, don’t you?” Rev whispers against her nipple, before blowing his hot breath on it. The sensitive skin there tightens in response while the backs of his fingers trail down and down, until he reaches the top of her slit.

Fully expecting to her to wake up at this point, he’s surprised when he dips his middle finger into her silky soft seam and her pelvis cants up to meet it, her thighs opening slightly in a silent appeal for more. He obliges her by adding a second finger into the wet pool of her arousal. Even in her sleep, she’s slick enough for…fucking? Is that the word she likes to use? He decides that Lure has decided to bestow this new word upon him and therefore commits to heart. He appreciates how…hungry it sounds…ravenous…as if there’s never enough of it to satisfy one’s need. He plans to make use of the new worship term which can already heard on the streets of Daxam, and even spoken openly in the Palace.

“Goddess, you are an outstanding whore, aren’t you?” he groans, wishing he could bury his face between her thighs. Spreading her folds between his two fingers, he finds the swollen bundle of nerves that will ensure his continued sexual worship, for the near future at least. Slowly rubbing the bud, he smiles as she undulates her hips, seeking firmer contact. Rev holds his hand steady, allowing her sleeping hips to find what they seek.

“You like that, girl?” he purrs against her skin, not loud enough that his voice might penetrate her dreamworld. “You like my fingers in your clutch, don’t you? That’s good,” he says. “That’s good, because soon you’ll have a whole lot more.”

In her sleep she struggles, grasping at something always just out of reach. “I know what you seek,” Rev teases in a low voice, her pelvis still riding just the tips of his fingers. He pulls away before she can get too much.

“Uuuunnngh,” the Kryptonian complains, her hips jerking. 

“It’s okay, girl,” he promises her. “I’m going to give you just what you need.” As if understanding his words, she spreads her thighs wider, waiting to cradle a pair of hips. “That’s a good girl,” he praises.

“Uh-hmmm,” she agrees, licking her lips.

Deeming her ready for further exploration, Rev dips his fingers further into her heat, the digits disappearing all the way to the last knuckle. With unbearable slowness, he withdraws them for a few seconds before sliding back in. His hand pumps in and out of her as though it’s a new and fascinating experience for him. When her sleeping body becomes unhappy with the speed at which he pleases her, her hips take over, her clutch riding his fingers.

“Unngggh,” he groans, biting his bottom lip to keep the sound from getting too loud. Just the excitement of hand-pleasur…hand-fucking her turns his member harder than a grellamite dildo.

Her hands grasp at the comforter beneath her as she slowly rides his fingers. It’s not enough though, and the Kryptonian groans loudly, her frustration and disappointment clear to all in the room. His team quiets down as they realize his aim, holding their collective breath to see just how far he can take her. Some of them even exchange credits in the wagers.

The more his hand pumps in and out of her soaking core, the wider her thighs spread, inviting him between them. He withdraws his fingers and licks them clean while considering what tact to take next. The girl is a heavy sleeper – a very heavy sleeper – and nothing he’s done to her thus far has awakened her, so he dares himself to take things a little further. Or a lot further. Sitting up, Rev leaves her side to kneel between her knees. Sensing the new space beside her, she spreads her thighs open further, as his team murmurs their approval behind him. Gazing down at the cradle of her pelvis, stroking his now aching cock, Rev decides it’s time to take what she offers, before he angers her, and she changes her mind.

She’s so wet with wanting him, glistening with it, and her arousal is more temptation then a reasonable Daxamite of his station should be forced to bear. Besides, Lure’s vessel or not, she’s the lucky prince’s toy to share as he sees fit, and his permission has already been secured.

As if agreeing with Rev’s rationalization, the Kryptonian shifts and writhes in her sleep, finding a more comfortable position as she turns her head to the other side. Providing the sign Rev’s been seeking, the Kryptonian’s thighs open further…for him, and her hips tilting up as though miming the act of being taken.

“Goddess! You’ll have me, won’t you, girl? You’re just begging for it.” His hands ghost over the skin of her inner thighs, enjoying the anticipation as he positions them to accept him. “I heard that about you. That you worship at the altar of Lure; Milk of Val-Or only providing fleeting relief from the fire that burns inside you. Let me make my offering to you. Let me ease your fire for however long the goddess allows.” Between thumb and forefinger, Rev pinches the head of his cock, which salivates a drop of pre-cum at the thought of having its way with her. Rev hears Declyn behind him, boasting about the tightness of her tender, swollen cunt and how vigorously it suckled his cock while he fucked her, as though well-trained to do so. And every man in the room witnessed how she fought Declyn as he worked to bring her to heel and cheered when he finally succeeded.

“No,” he hums as he makes his decision, his voice dripping zealous conviction. Crawling into place over her sleeping body, Revnik grasps his aching member and positions it at her opening. Goddess! He can feel its scorching heat wafting over the throbbing head. Torturing himself further, he allows his cock just a taste of her slick juices. “No, you won’t fight me at all…will you, girl?” he hisses, gritting his teeth to keep his control in check.

He doesn’t expect that the Kryptonian will beg for his cock the way she did for Declyn’s, at least not while she sleeps, and neither does he care. As a vessel of the goddess, it is her duty to accept his gifts and provide Lure’s blessing upon him, so she’ll take his cock all the same. But if the sound of her shaky moan and the smell of her arousal is anything to go by, she certainly wants it.

Deliberately and systematically, he lays siege to her ravenous passage. Carefully suspended over her, his elbows locked in place, he pushes in and then retreats a little, watching the sleeping Kryptonian’s reaction before pressing his next assault. He goes on this way for a few moments, a little at a time until he bottoms out, buried in her slick sheathe as far as he can go. Behind him, there’s a quiet celebration of his victory when she, incredibly, doesn’t wake, her only reaction being a moan of concession and her writhing beneath him.

“Goddessssssss,” Revnik hisses, the heat of her positively unparralled. The vessel is simultaneously excruciating pleasure and beguiling pain, just as Lure promises that True Pleasure should be.

The entire room, it seems, moans in concert with him, as though feeling this bliss along with him. It is just as Declyn promised, her passage gripping at him, sucking his dick into her depths. Unaware that such a thing was even possible, his cock grows even harder inside of her, threatening to spurt, and he must grit his teeth to keep from pulling all the way out, so he can slam back in. Goddess! He wants to dig so deep into her that he hollows her out, he wants to pound her until she weeps for mercy.

But he won’t, because he has a blessing to receive.

Rev’s cock, as enhanced as any other among them, doesn’t have length or curve that the Kryptonian couldn’t spread her legs fast enough for, but he does have an expanded glans that gives him more of a mushroom shape. It makes him extra sensitive, and his Advancement-enhanced testicles generate enough Milk of Val-or to keep the female partners of the congregation happy, particularly Laudia. His cock fills the Kryptonian’s space as though created for just such a purpose. Closing his eyes, he groans at the completion he finds, as though buried in the heat of Lure herself.

“Nnnngh…oh yeah,” he grunts, hardly caring if he wakes her now. “Praise Lure, that’s the sweetest cunt. Tighter than a fist.” Behind him, lounging in the pool, Declyn heartily agrees.

The Kryptonian whore, it seems, has a magical cunt – ‘pussy’ her people call it – that molds to fit perfectly around every rod, no matter the size or deviance of shape. Or so the evidence would have them believe. Undoubtedly, she is a miracle – perhaps created to be so in their own version of the birthing matrix.

Slowly pulling out, her pussy fighting his exit with gripping muscles, Revnik sinks stealthily back in with a deep sigh. “Oh, yeah,” he moans. “That’s it.”

“Mmmmmm,” the Kryptonian echoes as he fills her.

He’d love nothing more than to pound into her, and perhaps she’ll allow him the liberty. But first, he must honor her with an orgasm, preferably while she’s still sleeping. During congregation worship, he often practices the art of tranquil pleasure, which Rev believes will serve him well here now that he’s managed the hard part of penetrating her to the root. Stretching his legs out behind him and pointing his toes, he arches his back sharply, pressing his pelvis into her cradle, his pubis rocking gently against her swollen treasure.

In her sleep, the Kryptonian rolls her hips in time to his rocking motion until, beyond belief, their combined actions spark a small orgasm. “Mmmmuuunnngggghhhh,” she pants her high-pitched satisfaction, almost as if in celebration of his success.

Her pussy ripples around his cock, sucking and pulling at him. “Oh fuck,” he groans, his balls tightening with the need to come. “Lure, bless me for this gift,” he entreats.

The muffled sound of celebration behind him indicates that his team has noted the vessel’s orgasm and clocked him extra credit for giving it to her as she slept. Rev grins, her climax guaranteeing him three cycles of continued worship with the congregation, having met the prince’s challenge. Now…to exceed it.

At this moment, buried in her tight heat, he would sell his soul or pay any amount to purchase her, to own this sweet clutch would be the best investment a man could ever make. His hips drawing back, Rev retreats from her passage, every ounce of his being protesting the choice. Again, he sinks leisurely back in, holding his breath as her pussy draws him back in, wrapping around him like a prodigal lover. “Uuuuuunnnnggh,” he groans as she accepts him in completely. “Yeah.” He bites his lip, before finishing. “Your sweet cunt takes it and takes it.”

For long minutes, Rev fucks her with agonizing slowness, marveling at how deeply she sleeps as he probes her time and time again. His hips rocking slowly, painstakingly, against hers as his arms quiver with the strain of holding him up, his ass clenching to hardness with each slow assault upon her sleeping form. “You like that, girl?” he grunts between clenched teeth, fucking her with rough words instead of his body. “You don’t even know you’re getting fucked right now, do you? You want it though,” he tells her, his eyes drifting closed with the ecstasy of it all. “You want this dick in you so bad. I got your pussy so wet for it.” 

Completely unawares, the Kryptonian reaches for him in her sleep, stroking her delicate hands up and down his back before settling on his rear-end, her fingernails digging into the flesh there as though urging him harder, faster, and deeper. But he refuses to give in.

Rev wants to make her come again, but this time he wants her to be utterly aware of who’s giving her pleasure. Goddess, he would give anything to come right now, but he can’t if he wants her to be awake to take his offering. To beg for it, just as she did for Declyn’s. The man knows how to set the bar, and though he’s fairly certain he can’t get the Kryptonian to beg for his cock before he shoots his load, Rev’s relatively certain he can get her to plead for an orgasm – especially since she’s so easy to crank up.

But he’d like to enjoy this sacrament a little while longer if he can, as long as he can withstand the mounting pressure from his balls. Leaning down, he draws her nipple into his mouth and sucks on it, timing it to match his glacial thrusts. She writhes beneath the onslaught of pleasure he gives her, her hips pressing hard against his. Rev can’t wait to hear the slapping sound of his hips smacking into hers as she drills into her, but she needs to be awake for that.

“Yeah,” he breathes, sinking in with a stuttering breath. “That’s it, girl.” He slowly withdraws, then looses a deep groan when her heat welcomes him back, “Uunnnggh. So good. My gratitude to Lure for this vessel.” He can practically feel his dick release a few more drops of pre-cum in a primal, but premature, desire to water her fields with his nourishment. He clamps down on his control, because he won’t let his tool dictate when he’s done with this extraordinary fuck-flesh. “You’re better than any Adept I’ve ever had, girl,” he decides, as he pulls out. “Better than any Maid…uunnnngggh.” Tightening his buttocks, he slides back into her molten sheath, biting down on his lower lip before cursing loudly, “Fuck…oh, yeah…” Rev smiles, imagining her waking up to find him buried to the hilt.

Rev’s arms, fatigued from a long day wrangling garats, and nearly a half an hour of holding himself aloft to pay homage, are ready to collapse. In need of another, more arm-friendly position, Rev reluctantly withdraws from her wet heat and sits back on his haunches. Perspiration from the exertion of maintaining rigid control rolls freely down his chest and back. She doesn’t know it, but the Kryptonian is covered in more than a few drops of his sweat.

Wrapping a hand around his cock to keep it warm, Rev studies her like a work of art, as he circles her clit with the weeping head of his cock. Despite his intentional restraint, she still looks like a supplicant who’s been well-fucked. And one who isn’t ready to be done yet, with her wide-open legs and arousal dripping down onto the comforter beneath her. A wide pool of it gathers there, he notices, with no small amount of satisfaction. 

Taking one of her legs, he lifts it, positioning her calf on his shoulder. Lifting the other, he places it on the opposite site of his head, then he spreads his knees so that his cock can get close enough to brush her waiting channel. With one hand, Rev aligns his cock with her passage and leans forward to enter her, sliding into her welcoming pussy.

“Mmmmmm,” she moans, her eyes batting lazily open. 

Awake at last! He had begun to despair of ever hearing that voice beg for him. Her momentary emptiness must have finally brought her around.

“What’s your name?” she slurs, her eyes blinking drowsily. Her voice sounds resigned somehow, as though finally realizing she was created for one purpose and one purpose only; taking the cock of anyone man enough to have her.

“Revnik,” he groans as she clenches around his thick member.

“Is that what you want me to scream when I come?”

‘Good girl,’ he thinks, with a smile. He’ll have to thank Declyn later for breaking her, though breaking rebellious creatures is usually his job. In his opinion, it’s so much easier to fuck a whore resigned to her place, then one who still has some fight left in her. But, to each their own. “Rev,” he answers, drawing out and sliding back in, testing her waters. “They call me Rev.”

“Make me come, Rev.”

Finally free, Rev pulls out and slams back in, at last, reveling in the sensation of his heavy balls smacking into her. It is an exquisite pain.

“Oh!” she moans, reaching around for any part of him that she can grasp and landing on his ribcage. “Deeper, Rev.”

Rising up on his knees, he crawls onto his hands. Her legs, still braced against his chest, bend back until her body is folded in half. This position opens her up to him, allowing him to go deep enough to have her losing her breath. She barely even grunts with distress as he upends her body; her pliability and suppleness would be the envy of all of Madame Fortis’s Adepts.

Positioned in a way he now finds particularly pleasurable, both for the depths he can plumb and the dominance over her that it demonstrates, Rev can now fuck her to his body’s content. Preferably until he’s ready to collapse from exhaustion. After pulling out he drives back in, a dozen or more times in quick succession, a satisfying curse on his lips each time he strikes home.

Trapped in her current state, Kara can do nothing but vocalize as Rev ram-rods her into the mattress. “Ungh…ungh…ungh…ungh…” she grunts with each furious penetration, her head turned to the side as her toes curl with each assault. He’s trying to go deep, but it’s not deep enough. 

His arms quickly weary of this position and Rev stops fucking her, pulling out while he decides what position might work best. Dropping her legs, he repositions her thighs on the bed, bending her knees so that they’re spread as wide apart as possible. Grabbing the base of his cock, he uses the head to slap her folds, striking her clit so that her body jerks slightly in response, like a live wire being primed. Fascinated by the way her body reflexively twitches, he alternates between slapping her clit with his cock and then dipping the head of his tool into her cunt, just enough to tease.

Through half-lidded eyes, Kara observes him as he repeatedly teases her. The first thing she notices is that her current master is about twenty years past the retirement age of the average garata player. His head is shaved bald, probably for convenience, since Daxam must have weeded out male-pattern baldness by now, but his grey eyebrows provide a clue to his age. He’s lanky but still muscular, like a man who labors for a living, and his flexing biceps make it clear that he would have little difficulty throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her off to wherever he’d like, her protests just a minor annoyance. The deep crevices on his weathered face, cheeks, and around his seafoam green eyes reveal that he is past his middle age (though middle age is relative considering the life expectancy can vary by bloodline, she’s told). Kara guesses he’s at least twice her age, with perhaps an additional ten years on top of that – around sixty. That said, he is not…unhandsome, all things being equal…if she were the type of girl to look for the security of a father-figure, instead of the dominance of a daddy. Despite his advanced years, he’s in enviable shape, which is why the noticeable exhaustion seems out of place with his fitness, not to mention a tad premature in her opinion. Aiming for a teasing comment and hoping she doesn’t offend, she fakes a giggle and then says, “You got keyed up awfully fast.”

The entire room bursts into laughter, informing Kara that there’s a joke in the room and she’s not in on it. Rev’s eyes sparkle and his eyebrows waggle on his forehead.

Maybe it’s his age, or the intimidating intensity of his religious zeal…or maybe it’s the mocking laughter from the other men in the room, but something inside of her – the part of her that feels like a full grown woman who can handle anything – shrinks to the back of consciousness, into the shadows. Left in its place to bear the burden of her new master’s demands is only the immature, naïve part of her ego, who wants only to please. “I don’t understand,” she blinks, frustration building inside of her in more ways than one. Kara heaves herself into a sitting position, leaning back on her hands, her knees still spread wide. Innocently, she rocks her pelvis gently on the mattress, already missing the sensation of being complete since he pulled out of her. 

Rev tracks the confusion on her face as she tries to figure out what has everyone in the room laughing behind their hands and decides to put her out of her misery. “You’re a very heavy sleeper, girl. I enjoyed you for quite some time before you finally woke up. Albeit…gently,” he admits.

“You did?” she wonders. “I don’t…remember.” Kara panics on the inside. Does her body have no limits in its search for pleasure? Feeling violated, she fights the urge to close her legs.

“Your body was pleasured, even while you slept. It is blessing from the goddess Lure, who lamented that the hours forced to sleep might deprive her of carnal delights.”

“Lure?” Kara pushes back against the mattress, moving closer to him, her pussy drawing closer to his jutting penis. She places her knees over his thighs as his thumb strokes the head of his cock, coaxing forth a bead of white fluid. 

“You don’t know of Lure?” he asks, distracted for the moment by her strange mixture of ignorance and boldness. How can one so clearly made in the goddess’s image, know nothing of her legacy?

“Forgive me,” she bats her eyelashes. “I am Kryptonian.”

“Yes.” Kryptonians steadfastly choose to worship a single deity. “Lure is the Goddess of Pleasure. My wife Laudia is priestess of Lure and I am her consort…the Proctor.”

“The Milk Maids,” Kara recalls. “Wait…your wife? You’re married?”

“Is that the term you use? Yes…we’re life-bound to each other.”

“How long…have you been…latched?” she asks, her throat going to dry. He’s a married man with a wife, and possibly kids at home! Which shouldn’t be a surprise, considering his age. “Any…children?” Her discomfort level rachets up a few notches. His age is something she can work her head around, but the married-with-kids prospect is a bit more difficult for her. Shouldn’t she have standards? Kara attempts to scoot away from him, but an unyielding hand seizes her hip, holding her securely in place.

“We were latched thirty-four revs ago and yes…I have a son. A few revs older than you…I think.” Revnik’s hand, strong from years of wrangling rebellious beasts, tightens its grip on her hip, his fingers wrapping around to her ass cheek. Declyn left a few purple bruises on the perfect canvas of her flesh, and so too, shall he.

Rao! Just as she suspected, he’s old enough to be her father! A thought which doesn’t cool the heat in her skin or stop her damnably insatiable body from wanting him to fill her.

“My wife’s congregation believes you are Lure’s vessel. That She has sent you to us so that you may accept our offerings and our sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?” Kara gulps. His intimidating body hovers over her, leering down, his entire aura demanding her compliance, lest he take her by force by his religious right. Kara has no doubts that he’s capable. After all, personal rights are for the citizens of Daxam, not the slaves, and as a senya she falls squarely into the latter category. Since she’s been bestowed as a gift, albeit temporarily, she hasn’t the right to refuse his advances. Hoping to earn perhaps the slightest bit of tenderness, Kara tentatively reaches down between their bodies and wraps her hand around his steel-hard tool, running her hand up and down the veiny, wet shaft. It’s too large in diameter for her fingers to properly enclose and so she’s forced to add her second hand to do it right. She looks up into his face to see his eyes spark with a burning fervor, as though her initiative has revealed a sign of some kind to him. A frisson of alarm races down her spine.

He kneels over her, between her widely spread thighs, his cock presented for her adulation. The vessel sits up in front of him, her hands worshipping his organ like a trained supplicant, a little unsure and a little naive, just as a beggar of offerings should be. “Tonight, I give my milk to you, instead of to Laudia, or one of the maids of the congregation. The offering is mine…the sacrifice is theirs.” He grunts deep in his gut as she chokes up on his cock, pumping both hands up and down, coaxing forth more beads of fluid. Then, to his delight, she slides one hand between his legs and fondles his ball sack.

“S-seems like there m-might be plenty of it,” she stammers in astonishment, rolling his testicle between her fingers. His balls are nearly twice the size of others she’s seen. How does he walk? How does he sit? How does he ride a garat? So, it seems that, like Mon-El, Rev’s gifted with an above average supply of seed, however it’s likely his is mostly inert as breeding material. Good only for depositing in the wombs of Milk Maids during their religious rituals.

“The goddess will not be disappointed…I swear it,” he vows.

“I’m sure she won’t,” Kara hastens to reassure him, her fingers lightly massaging his testicles. “So…what position do you play on team, Rev?” she wonders, hoping to take her mind off the sudden realization that the ante of getting plowed by an old man has been leveled up to ritual intercourse with a defacto priest.

Oblivious to her discomfort, he chuckles at her seeming ignorance. “Surely you’ve noticed I’m a bit old to play garata, girl.”

“You seem in good shape,” she awkwardly flirts while transferring her attentions from the heavy ball sack to his stiff cock, hoping to a stall as her brain must reconcile new, increasingly dreadful data. His cock is a treasure trove of pulsing veins and Kara traces the most prominent of these with her thumbs. 

“I was the best once…uuunggh, that’s it, girl…don’t be shy, now. Led the championship squad twenty revs ago.”

The viscous beads of fluid, and nearly purple glans of his shaft prove distracting enough, so Kara leans forward and licks the semen away, dipping the tip of her tongue into the slit. More drops appear, so she sucks the bulbous head between her lips, working up the saliva in her mouth to lubricate it. She doesn’t take the shaft in her mouth, only working the head while holding the root in her fist, as one of the priest’s hands delves into her hair and the other splays on her back in encouragement. He’s salty, and Kara can feel his thumping pulse as she tongue-kisses his cock.

“Now I wrangle the garats and manage the team. _Fuck_!” He grits his teeth, the muscles in his jaw ticking angrily as his fingers fist in her hair. Rev pulls her mouth away from his dick and forces her to look up at him, a thick string of saliva still bridging his cock to her mouth. “Your sweet mouth has got me so hard, it’s time to take you again. Are you prepared to accept my offering as Lure’s vessel?” Rev demands, knowing what the answer must be.

“Yes, Rev,” Kara replies, pumping her hand up and down his hard, veiny flesh.

“Proctor,” he changes his mind, pressing one hand on her chest to push her back down to the bed. “Since I’m to make an offering, it is proper that you use my title for the sacrament, girl.”

Kara closes her eyes and nods, resigning herself to the knowledge that he’s not about to let her forget his position or his authority over her. And she supposes it doesn’t matter, one way nor the other, since it won’t stop the inevitable. Playing into his religious fantasies, and his licentious desire to dominate a much younger woman, seems the quickest way to get through this experience. ‘Be the fantasy,’ she tells herself. Then, altering the pitch of her voice slightly to sound younger, more virginal, she asks the Proctor what she suspects he wants to hear – what they always want to hear. “Can I have it, Proctor? Can I have your big cock?” Opening her eyes wide with faux innocence, she bats her eyelashes to convey manufactured awe, as if his erect penis is the first of its kind she’s ever seen.

“You like that, girl?” he leers. Rev remains stock still as he looms over her, enjoying the way that Kara’s fingers work his tool, and savoring the idea that she has to, as ordained by both the prince and the goddess. Before Kara can reply to his question, he answers for her. “I know you like that cock. I can feel it. No one was born to take cock like you were, do you know that?” He pauses for her answer. “Do you, girl?”

“Of course, Proctor,” she nods, biting down on her lower lip. 

“Good,” he drawls, practically drooling at what’s to come. “Because I’ve never felt a cunt as tight as yours. Now...be a good girl and stick my fat cock where we both know you want it.”

Obediently, she guides the priest’s dick to her entrance, wriggling and adjusting her own body until she feels ready to accept it. When she dutifully lifts her knees to her chest and then, hands gripping her shins, spreads them to better receive him, the Proctor surges back into her tight passage. At first, he groans at the rapture of feeling it encompass him like a fist once more, but his quickly ensuing thrusts are accompanied with the growling sounds borne purely of the gratification that comes from mastering her. “Yeah,” he grunts, looking down at where their bodies meet, a righteous fire in his eyes. “You can’t deny…you want me…girl. All that sweet honey calls you out.” 

As irrefutable evidence of his words, each of the Proctor’s thrusts is accompanied by the lewd soundtrack of her wet pussy announcing to all in the room that her body welcomes the things being done to her. Even as her mind struggles to reconcile how the physical pleasure overwhelms her psychological revulsion. Hands still gripping her shins as the Proctor pounds her, she tucks her chin into her shoulder, half-moaning and half-weeping in humiliation, as her body glories in more ecstasy than it rightfully should. “Yes, Proctor,” she whimpers.

While Declyn preferred fast and fluid, the Proctor is the opposite, slowly pulling out of her heat so that he can ram back in, and each time grinding against her pelvic bone before withdrawing for another thrust. What he lacks in graceful elegance, he makes up for with tenacious determination and religious fervor. With each resolute penetration, his face and neck contort with the effort of ensuring that she feels him going deep. Declyn’s rhythm, while quick and intense, had borne a certain fluid elegance, at least until he neared his completion and his tempo faltered. In contrast, the Proctor’s pace is staccato and jolting, inching her up the bed with each surge, and she can do nothing but hold on for dear life as his pelvis batters hers over and over…and over. Kara cants her hips into each thrust, hoping to minimize the thudding impact, but all it earns is a smirking grin from the man fucking her.

‘Is it true, what he said? Was she made for fucking? Was her pussy made for taking cocks?’ she wonders idly, as he plunges into her over and over and over. Raising her head, she looks down between their bodies to watch, enthralled, as her pussy does just that. Hardly even aware, she echoes his manly grunts with her own as their hips slap together and drops of his sweat rain down upon her. ‘Except she doesn’t just like cocks, does she?’ Even now, the man she’s fucking isn’t a man she’d choose, Kara tells herself. She prefers the intimacy that comes with being with someone she cares about – not this filthy business of having a stranger sweating on her, rambling nonsense about offerings and vessels, and reminding her every chance he gets that she’s young enough to be his daughter. It makes her crazy that the cock having its way with her right now has taken her choice away from her and forced her to feel a pleasure she doesn’t want. Doesn’t it?

“Oh god…oh yeah!” Kara shrieks, as he drives into the seat of her pleasure. Her head falls back and heat spreads up her belly and chest, a red tinge blooming there. 

“What did I…tell you…girl?” he demands between grunts.

“P-pro-o-ctor,“ she corrects, her voice shuddering as he reams her body harder, punishing her insolence. “Don’t stop…Proctor…ple-ease don’t stop…feels…so…good….” she cries between each plunge. Her pussy grabs and clasps at him, regardless of her personal misgivings about fucking a married priest old enough to be her father. And her voice, begging for more, doesn’t seem to have any control either. “Do-on’t stop…don’t sto-op…”

Kara doesn’t understand how this man…this priest…she doesn’t know, grinds and grinds at her clit with each graceless plunge of his meat, and yet he’s able to spool up her orgasm like he’s the god of sex himself and she’s his eager acolyte. He grunts and sweats, but she doesn’t care because it feels so good being reamed by him. She feels dirty, so dirty – in a way that playing Mon-El’s ‘whore’ never made her feel – but she doesn’t feel deprived in the slightest. Maybe on the next guy…she can keep her promise to herself, and not come like a nymphomaniac without standards. Because apparently, she won’t be able to keep her promise this time either.

“Fuck,” she curses, when she feels that breathtaking drop in the pit of her belly and suddenly her lungs are incapable for drawing in anything more than the tiniest snatches of air. Kara’s back arches, her head bowing back as though she’s on the end of a string pulled taut. “Proctor!” she screams, her world shattering into shards of light as she comes apart.

Rev drapes her nearly lifeless legs over his elbows and sets to work finding his own paradise, driving into her without a care now that her needs have been met. Oblivious to the sounds of her pleasure, he fucks her through her climax, putting his head down and digging his way through as he plows toward the finish line. Everything about the vessel feels so good, he’s torn between his desire for it to never end, and his duty to spill himself inside of her womb.

Kara holds on for dear life, even as the delicious waves of her orgasm taper off and she’s left only with exquisite sensation of the Proctor’s cock filling her, fucking her. “Yeah…uh-huh…uh-huh,” she whimpers breathlessly, her hips bucking to meet his. If she could spread her thighs wider, open herself up to him more, she would, but she’s at his mercy and he owns her pussy at the moment. “Uh-huh…uh-huh,” she mindlessly moans her encouragement. “Fuck me, Proctor…fuck me so hard…put that come in me…fill me up…fill me up with your offerings.” With each plunge of his cock into her rippling clutch, she has something dirty to say to him. She hopes the prince is listening. 

So eager is she now, the goddess Lure must surely have taken possession of Her vessel, the Proctor realizes, spurring his fervor to new heights. Rev grabs her right leg, props the knee over his shoulder and leans in, effectively putting her in the splits as he pounds into her. With each lunge he gets closer to nirvana, growling and grunting as he digs into her, his enormous balls slapping against her hard enough to sting.

“That’s it,” she cries. Kara’s eyes fill with tears and not because he’s stretched her legs further than she previously thought possible. “Oh, god, Proctor! Fuck me like that! Harder! Harder! Put it in me…so hot.” She sobs as she begs, tears streaming down her cheeks, despising herself for feeling the ecstasy he forces upon her – for wanting it to never end. Breathless, Kara grips at the Proctor’s back as the hedonistic pleasure washes over her, her nails leaving scratch marks that he’ll later brag about.

As his ball sack tightens and the inevitable approaches, he closes his eyes in prayer, his words reaching to the heavens. “Goddess Lure…Accept my offering.” When he falls apart, his brain goes numb, all synapses shorting out for a few seconds. Head thrown back and shouting his triumph, Rev pumps and pumps his hips on pure instinct, an involuntary reaction, like that of malak bird that continues to run in circles after parted from its head. When the release begins a moment later, he grits his teeth, his face grimacing in a mask of pain the corded muscles growing prominent on his neck and shoulders, his body quaking as he lets go. “Take it, my goddess,” he growls, spurting into her with each plunge. “Accept…this…sacrifice….”

“Give it to me,” Kara shamelessly pleads, her pussy drinking up the spunk his cock feeds her. Briefly, a strange sense of heady relief washes over as she begins to feel his warmth spread through her. She doesn’t know this man, but her body begs for his hot, dirty seed all the same – wants it filling her womb, like Declyn’s before him Taking it as deep inside of her as she can as if it’s the secret to life itself.

The release of his orgasm sets off a chain reaction of abundantly productive thrusts that go on and on. Nearly a dozen streams of cum jet into her clenching passage before Rev’s entire body stiffens with his final emission. A sigh of relief follows a mere moment behind, like a burden being lifted. Lowering her leg back to the bed, the Proctor’s pelvis unconsciously rolls over hers, his ass bunching and releasing as involuntary electrical signals shoot through his body, his spent dick craving every last second it can steal of her rippling heat. He takes a moment to gather himself, to catch his breath after such a religious experience. His flagging cock continuing to stake its claim, his pelvic bone grinding on hers, he communes with Lure for a moment and waits for her spirit to depart before opening his eyes and staring down at the vessel. “What do you say, girl?” he prompts.

“Thank you, Proctor,” she sniffles, her hands wiping the tears from her cheeks as she stares unseeing at the bed’s canopy above. “Thank you for your offering,” she finishes, fulfilling her Master’s directive, relieved that he seems to be done with her. Kara tells herself it would easier if the others just used her, and went back to the party, but deep down she knows that’s not true. Deep down she knows she’d like that, too.

“Welcome to Daxam,” he rasps. With a backwards glance at his applauding team, Rev slips out of her sheath and quietly, reverently, climbs off the bed, leaving her a ruined mess. He tosses her a towel with which to clean herself, but more for the courtesy of her next master than for her.

She swipes at her thighs and wipes her cunt, surreptitiously soaking up as much of the recent deposit as she can before dropping back on the bed and closing her eyes. Too tired to even move out the wet spot, the room spins behind her eyelids and she has to fight to keep from giving in to the darkness. Their voices murmur, the words themselves just out of earshot. Wishing she could cast a glance at Mon-El, she gives up when she realizes the cost in energy it would require.

****


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter but, oh well. I may post the next one quicker as an apology.
> 
> Also, this partner is younger than Kara. Whether he's (Earth) underage is totally the reader's choice, but he's not Daxam underage.
> 
> PSS -- because of all the weird words and names I've invented my Word has stopped acknowledging misspellings or typos altogether. I've done my best to proofread, but I can only do so much.

**ROBIS LOC**

No more than a minute after Rev abandons her, Kara feels a presence above her and a cock sliding into her without the slightest preamble, filling her up and going deep. From the size, she assumes Rev has returned for more, which seems unsportsmanlike for him. She opens her eyes, however, to discover a child between her thighs.

She opens her mouth to ask, ‘How old are you?’, but slams it shut on consideration. Maybe there are some things she’s better off not knowing, even if she’s uncomfortable with his obviously youthful appearance. It seems she now has the opposite problem she had with his predecessor.

Thankfully though, the phallus he’s shoved inside of her isn’t actually attached to him, and Kara breathes her first true sigh of relief since her ordeal began. He withdraws the dildo and slides it back in several times, searching for the pace that pleases her. 

The age of consent on Daxam is fifteen, Kara recalls Mon-El once told her before introducing her to the pleasures of sex. So, she knows he must be at least that age. Which doesn’t make her feel any better about being his sex experiment. Kara comforts herself by rationalizing that a child couldn’t possibly be good enough at garata to play on the prince’s personal team.

Kara tries hard to focus and remember…what was it she learned about Daxam since meeting Mon-El? Age of consent is fifteen. Chancel training for the boys begins at fifteen and girls at seventeen. For the girls their training begins by losing their virginity (if they haven’t already) and for the boys it ends only when they take the virginity of one of those girls. Girls are promised a partner skilled in the pleasure arts if they maintain their virginity until then. For most it’s a powerful incentive propagated by the chancel’s own live vid feed, open to all, of any age. So, if he’s as young as she fears then he might not have even completed his training. 

‘At least it’s unlikely I’ll feel the need to come,’ she thinks, just before the dildo hits a spot that has her heart stopping and he head reeling. Working off this revelation, the boy – young man – quickly finds a pace that forces her body to react instinctively, building to climax. To keep her body from going over too soon, he varies the length of entry with each insertion, sometimes entering her just enough to want more and sometimes going as deep as the device will allow. It’s hard to know what the dildo is made of, but it feels as though it’s growing hotter inside of her incrementally every few strokes.

What bothers her more than the boy’s – young man’s – apparent age though, is that he knows just how to strike a note inside her channel that feels so good she lifts her legs in hopes that he can do it again. Then, before her logical mind can kick in, she’s rocking against the dildo, like the strumpet she is. His strokes are measured and fluid, as if he knows just the moment when she needs him to pull it out and slide it back in and waits patiently for it. Soon, Kara’s brazenly begging for more. “Oh god,” she moans, her hands reaching for her breasts, squeezing the nipples and adding to the tapestry of sensations she’s feeling. She’s been ram-rodded and rough-ridden so many times, she’d forgotten what it’s like to be simmered to a slow boil – if she ever knew. “Mmmmm…yeah…oh god…oh god yeah…what’s your name?” she breathes. “What do I scream?”

“My name is Robis,” he interrupts, steadfastly maintaining his slow and fluid rhythm, just as he was trained. He can tell he’s spinning up the whore pretty fast because after only a handful of thrusts, her tight clutch is already trying to hold the dildo hostage each time it enters.

“Robis,” she repeats. He fills her again, waits for her to breathe, and then fills her again, stroking right up against all the good nerves. “Uh-huh…yeah…yeah…just like that, Robis….”

With a smile, he presses a button and the dildo comes to life, vibrating with an intensity that nearly has her coming out of her skin. “Fuck!” she screams, panting at the heat running through her veins. “Please….” She begs when she catches her breath for a second.

As all men do under the tutelage of Madame Fortis, Robis has been taught most of the ways to pleasure a woman, but his true preference is to bottom for men. He has a favorite Adept, an Andaarian named Valex, and Robis doesn’t relish the idea of going without him for three full moon cycles. If he’s unable to pleasure this Kryptonian whore and word gets back to Madame Fortis, then she would see to it that he never bottomed for Valex again. So, it’s time to put all that training to good use, he decided earlier while standing amongst his eager teammates debating whether he should gracefully bow out. When the Proctor finished with her, he rushed to take his turn, eager to rejoin the others and toke up a pipe. There are other ways of pleasing a woman than using your cock and besides, according to the rules he only has to be make her come, and he only has to fill her up with his cum – there’s no rule about how and where he has to put it.

With each stroke of the vibrator, he twists the device inside of her so that a small protrusion near the base strikes her clit. Her body jerks with each strike until finally, after an eternity of teasing, she falls apart, her body stiffening, her slick skin blooming with red on her chest and belly. Kara’s pants of completion spill from her open mouth. “Robis!” she cries. “Oh fuuuck…Robis.”

Robis removes and inserts the devices a few more times, using the vibrator to extend her ecstasy, her body spasming convulsively as her eyes roll back in her head. “You like that, Senya?” he asks.

“Yes, Robis,” she whines. “Yes, I like that.”

“Good,” he replies, removing his hand from the dildo. “Hold it inside of you.” He flicks the switch on the device again and the vibration intensifies before he inserts it to its full length, the protrusion right beside her clit, but not directly on the ultra-sensitive bundle of nerves.

Considering his next move, he retreats from the bed to platform. Reaching for the senya, he cups his hands beneath her underarms and drags her across the bed until her head hangs over the edge. Kara’s whole world becomes about two things: the buzzing vibration inside her that titillates but provides no relief, and the upside down landscape that turns everything on its head.

Robis approaches her, dangling his semi-flaccid penis in her face. “Open your mouth,” he commands, gripping his cock in one hand.

‘He may be young,’ Kara thinks, ‘but he’s got the voice down.’ But, still, there’s something about his commands and the authority in his voice. Like he’s faking it…trying someone else’s jersey on for size and taking it out for a spin to see how it fits.

Despite his command, she needs no instruction. Opening her mouth, she accepts the head of his shaft inside, sliding along the flat of her tongue. Her position on the bed provides her the luxury of closing her eyes unobserved, hoping she can pretend that the cock she’s servicing belongs to her mate, instead of to a young stranger forced upon her. Just as with the Proctor, she begins with open mouth kisses, swirling her tongue in circles around the tip. But he tastes different than Mon-El, shattering her illusion. But that doesn’t stop her from enjoying the flavors that dancing on her tongue.

“Mmmmmm,” she remarks. Reaching up blindly, she fumbles at first to grasp his growing dick, the upside-down positioning making coordination slightly more challenging. She wants more and the strength of her super-ego in this place cannot begin to override her id, which is clearly in the driver’s seat. “So good,” she sighs, complementing her young master. Licking her lips, she uses her hand to stroke his shaft from root to tip, her thumb passing over the slit before returning her mouth to its work. She teases the bulbous head across her lips, painting them with drops of pre-cum, several times before sucking him in again.

Kara alternates between massaging his staff by hand, and worshipping its head with her lips and tongue, her mouth filling with saliva to lubricate him. Each tug and squeeze of her hand lengthens him, turning him from floppy, ridiculous flesh, to hardened pleasure-providing steel. Providing him new sensation, Kara turns her head slightly and presses the glans into the soft, pliable flesh of her inner cheek a few times, and then pivoting her head to offer the other side. “Mmmm…yeah…” Kara sighs, a dribble of saliva rolling down her cheek.

The vibration of her moans feels amazing on his erection. As an afterthought, Robis reaches forward to cup and mold her breasts in hopes that the action will ratchet of the intensity of her pleasure. He is not disappointed. He pinches and plucks at the nipples to test her reaction, finding the results acceptably productive when she moans around his cock and arches her back, thrusting her breasts into his hands. 

Despite his youthful appearance, without a doubt, this is the steel of a full-grown man. Even occupied by the vibrating dildo, her cunt still aches to swallow his girth whole. She undulates her hips seeking more stimulation on her clit, but the vibrator is not large enough by half nor flesh enough to please her. But the cock in her mouth is. 

Slowly, at first, Robis begins delving his cock further into her mouth. The senya’s mouth is a sweet revelation, servicing the most sensitive part of him with eager moans in her throat, but since he has already fulfilled the terms of the challenge, he is anxious to take his own pleasure and return to spectating.

“Take me in deeper,” he commands, already pressing. “I’m going to fuck your mouth.”

And fuck her mouth he does. Her position on the bed allows him to go all the way into the root, his glans shoving past her tonsils and deep into her throat. She gags at the intrusion, but before her gorge can truly rise, he withdraws offering her a second of relief. His next handful of thrusts are shorter, shallower and then, when she thinks she’s in the clear, he deep throats her again.

Kara opens her throat as best as she can and gargles as though she’s downed a shot of mouthwash instead of an inch-worth of dick. The proactive technique keeps her from gagging too badly, but it also sends him into a near frenzy. He withdraws until her lips are just around the head of his cock and pushes back in all the way until her nose is buried in his ball sack. When his hips surge again without offering her a chance to recover, Kara realizes she may be in trouble. She can’t turn her head to either side to escape his blitzkrieg and his testicles prevent her from taking in any significant amount of air.

She’s drowning in cock, and what a way to go.

“Aaaaarrggggghhhhh,” she squeals, arching her back. Kara kicks out her legs, hoping that her distress will be noticed and answered. But instead of coming to her aid, she hears a corral of cheers through ringing ears. When Robis’s hands grab the side of her head to hold her in place, she can do nothing but surrender.

Robis retreats again and then dives back in, stifling the sounds of her discomfort. The sensation of vibration on his cock is just too good to stop, especially when he’s this close. He’s knows how to take her to the brink, he’s done this once or twice before, so she’s in no real danger. She’ll only feel like she’s dying.

Kara forces herself to give in, to relax into his mastery of her. With each thrust of his cock into her mouth, he owns her just as much as the others before him, and as much as the others likely to follow, she realizes. Though he’s chosen to stake claim upon her mouth, he pinches and twists her nipples sending signals of arousal to her core.

She rides the Robis storm, gaggling and gargling and praying to Rao she doesn’t lose consciousness. Like men trained of Daxam, she’s beginning to see, his stamina is nothing to sneeze at, but if he doesn’t come soon, she really will be in trouble. “Grgggghhghhgh….grgggghhghghgh….” she gargles against each incursion, her eyes drifting closed as her body loses all its fight. “Grggghhghhgh…grggghhghhgh….” Tears overflow her eyes, but she doesn’t know if it’s because she’s crying or if his rough thrusts are simply making her eyes water. Her breath is impossible to catch anyway. She sobs at the next assault.

“Gods!” Robis groans, his eyes slammed tightly shut and his lips pursed in ecstasy, the crunching of his abdominals and the tightening of his ass, drive him into her hot, wet mouth over and over. Each time he withdraws, his dick is covered in thick ropes of the saliva she generates to lubricate her throat. When he goes deep, which is every time now, he can see her neck bulge with each infiltration. “Mmmm,” he moans, licking and biting his lower lip as he tracks the bulges in her neck. “Oh yeah…face-fucking…is there anything…you can’t….do? You like that, don’t you? Yeah…whores like that.” As if to answer in the only way the mastered senya can, she groans around his tool, her tonsils squeezing down on his glans in the most delicious way. It sends shivers down his spine to base of his tailbone, which drives him forward into her mouth again. It’s an ever-repeating cycle – a ride he doesn’t want to depart anytime soon. 

He’s never had an Adept take him this deep, not even Valex, who prefers to work him over with just his dexterous tongue. “Unnngghhh…unnghh,” he continues unabated, giving the senya an experience to brag about.

Kara’s foggy mind grapples for a solution as she enters a stage of ethereal disconnection from her body. She needs to get him off and quickly, or she could lose consciousness. She remembers something she read once about how to get guys to come, but she’d never used it on Mon-El, since it would have defeated the purpose of their marathon sex sessions. Grabbing the back of one Robis’s legs to hold him place, she snakes the other hand between his thighs and probes behind his scrotum for the spot she seeks, just as the world starts to go gray around the edges.

But when salvation is just within reach, the stakes get even deeper.

Struggling to stay connected to her body, it takes her a moment to cotton on to what’s happening when the vibrating between her legs stops. At first, she thinks the device has fallen out, perhaps rejected by her pussy as she fought Robis’s assault on her mouth. But then, her thighs are spread wide and two large fingers toy with her folds before pushing inside, fingers of flesh and steel. She comes on them before they can withdraw, causing her to scream against Robis’s tool, her scream fading into sobs as the hollow climax dissipates.

“That one counts as mine,” Robis insists, having stopped thrusting, his cock held deep down her throat. The sounds, the vibrations the makes, are pure paradise for him. Her hands fumble blindly for something to anchor herself to and land on his thighs.

“Gods, that’s strong,” a second voice says before retreating and then filling her again. “Oh fuck…that’s going to feel good,” he groans, pulling out adding a third finger before delving back into her heat.

Sandwiched between the two them and having neither the strength nor the power to stop what’s being done to her should feel terrifying. It should feel like she’s being violated six ways from Sunday – and it does – but what terrifies her is that her body wants more. She doesn’t just want more sex, or orgasms, or cum spilling into her, she aches for more roughness, more carnal primality, and more systematic destruction of her inhibitive autonomy. More explicit and impossible to ignore reminders that she isn’t indestructible or invulnerable to pain.

“Yels’en has trouble waiting his turn,” Robis explains to her, taking a brief intermission from pummeling her tonsils. “You don’t mind, do you?” But before she can respond in any meaningful way he answers in her stead, telling Wals, “She doesn’t mind.”

“The only answer I need from her is the nectar dripping from her cunt,” Yels’en growls, lifting his fingers to his mouth to suck off her juices.

Despite the bitterness in his tone, his hands are gentler than the others have been. At least while she has been conscious. Kara can’t see him or even estimate the size of his body; except to say that his fingers seem larger than those of the others. She can feel a fourth finger being added and twisting its way inside of her. She knows what comes next, and Rao-almighty, he’s stretching her beyond the point of anything that might be considered pleasure. Her eyes leak more tears that stream down her temples into her stringy, sweat-soak locks.

As the highest-ranking member of the team, behind the prince of course, Yels’en could have denied Declyn his place in the front of the line, but for reasons that will soon be obvious to the tiny little whore, he needs to be last. That was his plan at least, until Wals leaned over while tossing back a glass of wine and offered to go last. For reasons of his own. Yels’en wasn’t about to reject the offer.

Most of the team couldn’t wait to see the look on the whore’s face when she gets a good look at him. She barely looked at any of them when they spilled into the prince’s quarters after the game, her eyes trained either to the floor or on her master at the time. Except when staring flying daggers at Declyn for insulting her and her entire straitlaced culture. She is definitely a pleasure-flesh of hot tempers.

Drawing back and tucking his thumb into his palm, Yels’en twists his wrist screwing his hand into the Kryptonian slave’s sheath a little bit at a time. Robis’s thrusts into the girl’s mouth mar Yels’en’s timing and so he pins the kid with a glare. The garata prodigy is still new to the team and hasn’t learned his place yet, or that such a look from his superior will earn him painful consequences. Yels’en’s hand remains perfectly still inside of her, even as she squirms in an attempt to adjust. Glaring at Robis, he snaps, “Hurry up and finish, Robis. You’ve been fucking her mouth for an gods-damned age.”

“You should feel this mouth,” Robis defends, pressing his cock into said mouth until he can feel the senya’s nose nestle into his ball sack and the moaning vibrations that meet his glans.

“I’ll have you chained to the wall in the chancel for your insubordination.”

“Worth it,” Robis chuckles.

“Fucking a slave’s mouth is for putting them in their place, not for taking your pleasure.” He presses forward, twisting his wrist, he eases in, waiting for her pop when his thumb knuckle makes it past her entrance. It’s not every pleasure-flesh that can take a whole man’s hand inside of her haven, and certainly not his! The crown prince’s concubine is extraordinary, especially when her origins are taken into consideration. When he pushes in further, nearly to the wrist joint, her pelvis jerks like a puppet that’s had its strings pulled. “I apologize if this hurts,” he tells her, his voice deep. “But I need to stretch you.”

Yels’en pulls back an inch at time, groaning as her inner muscles tighten and then release to let him go. Then, as if to catch her pussy off guard, he’ll change direction and push forward. He recognizes the sound of her sobbing and sight of her chest gasping for air and it grates him to the bone. A woman gifted with the ability to bring pleasure and satisfaction to so many, perhaps even innumerable partners, shouldn’t be wasting her energy on tears. She should be rejoicing. He only hopes that, as gifted as she is, she’s exceptional enough to help with his little problem.

But before he can find out, first he must to dispense with the stripling. 

Working his hand free of it confines, Yels’en slips off the bed and stalks around to the other side. Robis is so focused on face-fucking the slave that he doesn’t even notice Yels’en approaching him from behind. The larger man slips a forearm around the younger man’s neck pulling him into an inescapable chokehold.

Yels’en reaches between Robis’s thighs from behind and locates his perineum, using two fingers to press ruthlessly against the sensitive area. “You’re done,” he rasps into Robis’s ear just as the younger man’s entire body seizes. With a deep groan Robis pumps his load into the back of the slave’s throat.

Kara, however, is too occupied with fighting her rapidly encroaching unconsciousness to think about swallowing. On instinct her body rejects it, coughing it out in exchange for a breath of fresh air that puts the color back into her vision.

Still holding him in a headlock, Yels’en steps Robis back a few inches, and reaches around to grab kid’s cock. Tightening his arm around Robis neck, pressing into his carotid artery, Yels’en squeezes and yanks the younger man’s erection, shaking the resultant cum onto the slave’s face, her mouth open as though she’s forgotten how to close it. Robis groans as Yels’en strokes, each time depositing the milky white fluid on her face until a sense of profound relief washes over him and he melts against the wall of Yels’en’s chest, counting on his teammate to hold him up until he can collect himself.

“Kryptonian!” Yels’en shouts, snapping her out of her fuck-induced torpor.

Eyes rolling, Kara tries to regain the bearings that slip further away with each new partner. Kara smacks her cum-drizzled lips a few times, feeling the ache in her jaw as she closes it her mouth again. “Thank you,” she heaves hoarsely, a deep burn in the back of throat with each word. “Thank you for giving me your cum.”

“Welcome to Daxam,” Robis replies, a relieved smile on his face. Ready or not, Yels’en releases him and he stumbles off the platform and back to lounge area, leaving her to Yels’en’s tender mercies. Servants delivered more food and drink while he‘d been occupied and he could use a little something to refuel.

Having her all to himself now, Yels’en stares down at the exhausted slave and considers his options.

Kara’s trying to determine which of her parts are still working properly and which will need serious rehabilitation in Brana’s retiring room, when a pair of thick hands drag her to the end of the bed and yank her up like she weighs no more than a ragdoll, throwing one of her arms around his neck. Out of instinct, the other arm follows, grasping for dear life as he lifts her from the bed.

****


End file.
